Five Conversations
by Golden Snowflake
Summary: Two conversations about Mob and three with him.
1. Chapter 1

- **I** -

"Master? Can I ask you something?"

Reigen looked up, several stray noodles hanging from his had closed the office for the evening, starting on some reheated takeout as Reigen rifled through a stack of neglected paperwork. He blinked, surprised at the little esper breaking the companionable silence. He loudly slurped the rest of the noodles into his mouth. "Sure, Mob. What is it?"

The boy looked back down at his food, expression thoughtful. Reigen never could read the peculiar kid.

"Should I change my haircut?"

The blonde hesitated, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. "...what?"

"At school today…" Mob's pale fingers shifted over the thick ceramic of the bowl in his lap. Reigen chewed, waiting for him to gather his thoughts. "...one of Tsubomi's friends told me my hair is stupid."

Arataka felt a distant stab of indignation, amazed at how utterly mundane this was. So absurd - children could be so fickle, so cruel - yet he remembered that. The kind of nonsense people sputtered all day in the adult world, said by someone who mattered from across a classroom, could be devastating. Mob's gaze rested on him as Reigen mulled over the best response.

"To be fair, you're not exactly the epitome of fashion, Mob." He pressed a fingertip to his cheek, theatrical in his thoughtfulness. "Think of it this way: you consider your brother to be your friend, right?"

Mob blinked. "Ritsu?"

Reigen nodded, knowing that this was as close to a conclusive answer as the boy was likely to give. "Do you and your brother agree on everything?"

The esper's eyes fell somewhere between them, the contemplative look on his face making it seem as if he had never thought about it before. "Little brother and I? No, I suppose not…"

"So, just because her friend thinks you look stupid doesn't mean Tsubomi thinks so too. Unless she says it herself, you shouldn't worry about it, okay?"

The morphing of Mob's expression, from thoughtful to surprised to quietly delighted, did something to Reigen's heart - it was much like the blooming satisfaction when a customer thanked him enthusiastically for his services but much stronger. Mob knew him. For him to be in awe of Reigen was that much more amazing.

Self-consciousness prickled at the back of his mind and Arataka stuffed another mouthful of noodles into his face. He met his student's eyes. "Mob. Stop looking at me like that."

Mob seemed startled by that. He blinked again. "Like what, Master?"

Reigen frowned. Mob's expression was so sincere, even his polite posture honest. "Like you're going to do exactly as I say," he finished.

"Sorry, Master." Mob's voice was softer, his gaze dropping back to his food. Instead of coddling him, knowing that would only make him feel worse, Reigen went on.

"You're capable of finding solutions, too. I'm glad you want my advice, but it's okay to decide on your own what to do after talking to other people. You don't have much common sense, but listening to your gut and following through is how you learn. Try to have some faith in yourself."

A small smile spread across his face as Mob processed this. "Thanks, Master." Reigen nodded sagely, swallowing down another messy glob of noodles. "Maybe I won't worry about it. She's just some girl, after all. I probably won't even see her anymore after school is over."

"Mmr'sactly," Reigen agreed through his mouthful. _If he does it himself, it'll probably look more ridiculous anyway,_ he chose not to vocalize. For all his quirks, Shigeo was a good kid. Seeing that look on his face - that pleased curve of his lips, so small that a stranger wouldn't notice it - warmed his heart too much to chase it away.


	2. Chapter 2

\- **II** -

Around eleven months later on a rainy summer afternoon, there was a knock on the door of the Spirits and Such Consultation Office.

Reigen glanced up from his newspaper, the cloying humidity sticking to him despite the small army of fans plugged in about the room. It wasn't rare for someone to stop by after closing, an elderly woman who hadn't noticed the sign or an overworked businessman who couldn't get there any sooner. He rarely shooed them off, but the heat was heavy on his limbs, pooling in his lungs like syrup. Conflicted, he huffed out a sigh, running a hand over his face.

The dilemma was wrested from him when the door swung open. He frowned at the well-dressed blonde boy, knowing he knew him, scrambling to figure out from where.

"You _are_ here," the boy said. "Good."

Reigen frowned at him. "Hanazawa?"

"Clearly," came his breezy response. He invited himself to recline on the battered couch, draping a slim arm along its back. "I haven't changed _that_ much, have I?"

In all honesty, Teruki's features, supposedly so handsome his school idolized him for them, seemed very nondescript to Arataka. Every time he adopted a new hairstyle, it took Reigen's mind a few moments to recalibrate and recognize him. He put a folder down he hadn't realized he was fanning himself with. "I'm assuming you didn't come here to ask for my assistance with something supernatural … what can I help you with?"

The blonde's almost snide expression barely changed as he cheerfully feigned offense. Yes, he was definitely recognizable now. "Really, Reigen? Who's to say I didn't just drop by to visit with you?" His smirk fell then, his eyes becoming more earnest, and he rested his hands in his lap, pale against the denim of his designer jeans. "I … wanted to talk to you about Mob."

A rogue oscillating fan threw a stream of warmish air at him, blowing Reigen's bangs into his face. He blinked. "Mob?"

"I'm sure he's mentioned the girl he's interested in. She goes to Salt. Tsubomi."

 _Of course,_ Reigen thought. His heart sank a little at that, at Mob's honesty, still pining for a girl who had zero interest in him.

"Using my influence, I could get him a date with anyone, but he's only interested in her." Hanazawa's gaze fell to some indeterminate point between them, and Arataka wondered silently if the teenager's feelings on the matter were similar to his own. "I'd like to help him. You're his master - you know him better than anybody. Is … there anything you could tell me that would help teach him how to talk to girls? How to act?"

He found himself smiling, proud to be the person to talk to if you wanted to know about Mob, glad that Mob had friends who wanted him to be happy. He leaned back in his chair with a sigh, interlacing his sweaty fingers. After a while, he spoke.

"To be honest … I don't think Mob fits into the normal idea of sexuality." Teruki looked surprised by this. "He's a very strange kid. I'm not sure it that's because of his powers or if he was just doomed to be different and his powers made it worse. Mob knows that he doesn't fit in, but he doesn't know how to fix it. It's almost like he's a different race sometimes."

"Yeah," Teru murmured. "I see."

Reigen nodded. "I'm sure you understand this: adults can be awful. People are mean and stupid and afraid of what they don't know. Mob just doesn't have it in him to act like that. He's too honest to treat people the way they expect to be treated."

"Huh. I suppose that's true."

Without thinking about it, Arataka took a cigarette from the pack in his top drawer and lit it. Hanazawa was silent, seemingly lost in thought.

He took a long drag and exhaled, a sigh filled with carbon monoxide. "It's for that reason that someone like that will never return his feelings."

For a long moment, Hanazawa said nothing, his blue eyes fixed on his graceful hands where they were folded in his lap. "Yeah," he finally uttered softly. "Part of me realized that. I'm not used to being helpless though."

Reigen closed his eyes and nodded. "It's not the answer you wanted, but it's the truth. And besides, when Mob does find someone who returns his feelings, wouldn't it be better if they see him for who he is and really cherish that?"

The teenager surprised him by chuckling. "Huh. You really _do_ have a way with words, don't you?" He rose from his seat, sliding his hands into his pockets. "I can see why Mob thinks so highly of you, Reigen."

Arataka said nothing. Teruki had a way of speaking that never made it clear if he was mocking someone or not. The blonde stopped at the door and glanced back over his shoulder.

"Thank you for the advice."

"Of course." He tapped the ash off his cigarette, re-crossing his legs. "I'm always happy to help."

Teruki Hanazawa left the office, leaving Reigen to listen to his fading footsteps and the lazy buzz of the fans in his absence. He knew what he'd told the esper was true, but he was left with the odd sensation of a hole in his stomach and he didn't know why.


	3. Chapter 3

\- **III** -

It was mid-October, just after Reigen's 30th birthday, and the cool creep of autumn air had palpably invigorated the city. The season always filled the con man with a tingling, warm feeling of exhilaration, part energy fueled by the lifting of the oppressive humidity, part a silly, childlike joy at the time of year when his loved ones came together to celebrate him. Then again, having people who celebrated his existence was a relatively new development, Reigen reasoned, so it was justified.

Since employing Serizawa, Reigen made an effort to spend time with Mob when he got the chance. Being sixteen was hard, he knew (did he ever know), and aside from Ritsu, who had his whole own host of problems and responsibilities, Mob didn't seem to have a particularly supportive family.

It was certainly a hard enough age without the burden of terrifying and dangerously powerful psychic abilities.

He scooted into the booth across from Shigeo, loosening his tie and breathing out a sigh of relief. "What a day."

Mob said nothing, easing them into the comfortable silence that usually filled the space between them. He was wearing a dark button-down jacket and a turtleneck beneath it. His face was losing some of the childlike roundness Arataka had just assumed would be there forever, and in the dim lighting of the western-style restaurant, his jet-black hair and dark eyelashes framed his pale face strikingly. In a sobering moment that made Reigen feel very old, he realized that Mob was really growing up.

When the waiter arrived to order their drinks, Mob requested a soda, something he'd begun doing recently that surprised and amused Reigen. ("Sometimes things around me start floating if I have too much caffeine, but I'm usually okay if I just have one," he had once explained.) Reigen ordered a whiskey even though actually drinking the whole thing would knock him flat on his back, because that's what sophisticated businessmen drank.

"There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Hm?" The older male looked up from where he was inspecting his fingernails. From anyone else, it would be a forbidding statement, but he had learned that Mob would elaborate if given the opportunity.

"Well, I'm growing up." Arataka watched him, trying to read the thoughtful look in his dark eyes. Mob hadn't read his mind, had he? "My classmates are all looking into which universities they want to get into or where they can start internships. Everyone seems to know what they want to do with their lives."

Reigen swallowed. _Oh._

"Even Ritsu - he wants to go into business, whatever that means. I've been thinking about it, and I really can't decide on anything. There isn't really anything I _want_ to do."

The amount of genuine worry in his eyes when he met his master's took Arataka by surprise.

"Is there something wrong with me? Why can't I make a decision and be sure about it like everyone else?"

 _How can he not know what "business" means?_ Reigen rested his face in his hand, trying to figure out how to best reach Mob with his answer. As he ruminated on it, the waiter brought their drinks. Mob sipped his soda and hiccupped immediately. The small vase and lit candle on the table jumped and rattled, and Mob and Reigen stared at them in identical amounts of subdued surprise. Arataka cleared his throat and took a tiny sip of his drink.

"It's understandable that you're concerned. You're at the age where everybody pressures you to make huge decisions. There's one thing you realize when you're older, though."

Shigeo fixed him with his bottomless stare. "What's that, Master?"

Running a fingertip along the rim of his glass, he swallowed down the burn of the drink. "It may seem like everyone around you knows exactly what they're doing, but they're only acting that way because they're told to by their parents and teachers. If you sat down with every teenager and really talked to them, they would admit - maybe in not as many words - that they have no idea what they're doing with their lives." Arataka met the young man's gaze as the warmth of the whiskey spread and settled throughout his chest. "They're all just as scared as you. Some even more. Every one of them is faking it."

His student's eyes fell to the bubbles of carbonation racing to the top of his tall glass. "Oh. I had no idea," he murmured in his soft monotone.

"Yup." Arataka rested his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together and shielding his mouth behind them. (The stance of someone knowledgeable.) "In fact, being able to admit to yourself that you aren't sure what your future will hold is a great strength. It takes a lot of courage to embrace that and open yourself up to unknown possibilities."

The chatter of the patrons around them rose and fell, muted somehow as if Mob had subconsciously insulated them in a psychic bubble. Reigen let the thought go as he watched Mob stretch his arms out and clasp his graceful, pale hands on the table. "When I think about it, that makes a lot of sense."

A sense of accomplishment filled the older male, which he rewarded with another mouthful of whisky. The feeling was like gargling with gasoline and he choked back a cough as tears sprang to his eyes. He had no idea if the young esper was fooled when he scrambled to cover it by loudly clearing his throat behind his fist. He looked back up to find Shigeo watching him, that almost unnervingly serene gleam in his eyes.

"Stop looking at me like that, Mob."

The owlish gaze was broken for a moment, a flicker of long eyelashes as the boy blinked. "Like what, Master?"

The air thickened and he broke beneath it, glancing away at the condensation on his glass. "Like I have all the answers."

"If you don't then who does?"

Mob's face was completely deadpan when Reigen looked up at him again. His eyes defied the shadow his glossy hair cast on his face, almost luminous.

The offense he should've been feeling on the receiving end such sarcasm was lost in something else, something unnamable and unsettling. He tried to swallow down the lump caught in his throat and thought obtusely, _I'm no match for him_.

Like an angel, the waiter swooped in then, apologizing profusely for the wait and handing either of them a menu. Reigen allowed himself to deflate a little with relief behind his.

When he snuck a glance across the table, he would've sworn he saw a small, almost unreadable smile playing on Mob's lips.


	4. Chapter 4

\- **IV** -

There was a job in the city, barely a block from Salt High School. Reigen hung up with the client, spent a few moments doing nothing and idly wondering what Dimple had been up to for the last few days in his noticeable (peaceful) absence, then fished out his cell phone to text Mob that he would meet him when classes ended.

The con man found himself wandering the hallways, lost in thought about the brief flash of memory that was his student life, about how agonizingly, impossibly endless it had felt at his battered, pen-etched desk. There was only a momentary warning before the suddenly-growing dull roar was upon him in the form of dozens of students spilling past him on their way to escape. It was so different yet so much the same: jocks with bellowing voices, snide whispers between fiercely beautiful girls, the oppressive aroma of sweat and perfume and men's deodorant and the wood of palm-warmed pencils. Reigen was overtaken by nostalgia for a minute before glancing in one of the doorways and realizing he'd found the exact student he was looking for.

Mob packed his books away in a slow, contented manner that separated him from the swarm of restless children-turned-adults buzzing around him. He watched his student, fascinated, as his classmates trickled out and left him behind. Then Shigeo looked up. His thoughtful expression brightened immediately. "Master Reigen!"

"Ready to go?" Arataka slid his hands into his pockets, giving a small, crooked smile. Mob nodded and slung his backpack over his shoulders.

"Are you allowed to be here?"

Reigen blinked at the figure who had materialized at his side. Mob's bright gaze shifted to him. "Oh. Hello, Ritsu."

"Mob's brother," Arataka drawled by way of greeting, despite the fact that Ritsu's name was readily available information.

Ritsu Kageyama had grown into the age of sixteen much the way Reigen would have expected. His jaw was sharpening, accenting the strong yet boyish line of his nose, his pronounced brow and intelligent eyes creating something of an impassive yet skeptical expression. His soft voice was the only feature that betrayed his movie-star look. "Reigen-san, can I speak with you for a minute?"

"Yeah, sure." He turned to Mob, trying to take the request in stride. "I'll be right out, Mob."

"Okay, Master." He smiled briefly at Reigen before starting toward the school's entrance. Ritsu stepped into the empty classroom and the self-proclaimed psychic followed him, curious.

"How's business, Reigen?"

Leaning against the teacher's desk at the front of the room, Reigen regarded the younger Kageyama warily. "Great. There's no short supply of people with paranormal issues. What they assume to be paranormal issues, at least."

"Mn." Ritsu looked at him, face expressionless. That directness didn't promise an exceedingly pleasant conversation. "You've been running your agency for quite a while now, haven't you? Even after that incident a few years ago." He sniffed in amusement, his stare finally dropping away. Arataka took the opportunity to work his jaw; release the urge to grit his teeth. "It's kind of remarkable that my brother is still your apprentice after all this time."

Reigen nodded once. "You know as well as I do that Mob's psychic powers are incredibly dangerous. He learned to control them, but he needs guidance. Being such a powerful esper makes it impossible to be objective about your own abilities." He turned his gaze toward the hallway as his thoughts reached out toward the quiet seventeen-year-old. "Without his talents, the business would've been underwater years ago."

"I would think that much is obvious." Ritsu's voice was flat and entirely unimpressed. "I imagine you pay him minimum wage now, at least."

Arataka appraised the dark-haired boy through his eyelashes, patience quickly wearing thin. "Is there something you wanted to say to me, Ritsu?"

"I'm just impressed at how you've taken advantage of him for so long," Kageyama chuckled. His eyes met Reigen's again and were icy. "And that's just the ways in which you've succeeded."

The calm he'd managed to maintain up to this point faded, replaced in the pit of his stomach by the faintest blooming rage. "I'd like to know exactly what you're implying."

"My brother is too kindhearted and too quick to assume that those around him have decent intentions. Once he decides he admires someone, it wouldn't be difficult to persuade him to do whatever one wanted."

"When exactly have I talked Mob into doing something he didn't want to do?"

"Short of every day you convince him to prioritize your career over everything else?"

"Mob is old enough to make his own decisions." Arataka felt his voice coming out sharper. "If you think every one that you disagree with is because of some sort of manipulation, you're living in a delusion."

Ritsu moved forward, tone dropping. The room felt more humid somehow, as if his anger had thickened the air. "There is _nothing_ delusional about protecting my brother."

"It's good to know that we both have his best interests at heart, then," Reigen replied, folding his hands into his pockets and turning to leave. The irritation simmering in his gut was rising, and he knew he had to be elsewhere before his quick mouth got ahead of his thoughts.

He was frozen in his tracks as if something had spontaneously turned his bones to ice.

"If you hurt him, Reigen Arataka, I'll kill you."

The suffocating feeling of paralysis lifted as suddenly as it had appeared, and Reigen felt himself glaring, his cool facade cracking as sweat beaded on the back of his neck and his heart rattled against his lungs. It took everything in him to make his voice nonchalant. "I'm his teacher," he stated matter-of-factly. "You say that as if he was some lovestruck girl and I was after-"

"Master?" Mob's soft voice interrupted him just as an all-new kind of horror was prickling up his spine and making his heart start beating out of his chest. He ignored Ritsu's hard stare on his back and tried to remember how to breathe. "Are you ready to go?"

Mob's honest, dark eyes turned his insides into knots and knocked his heart into his throat. "Ah - I - y-yeah, I, yeah, I'm ready." The seventeen-year-old gave him an earnest nod. His brother's hawklike stare was like ice water boring into the heat engulfing Reigen's body.

Shigeo's brows drew together. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Mob." He brushed past his student gently, the air in the hall as relieving as if it was the first time he'd breathed in hours. His heartbeat echoed deafeningly in his ears as his student turned to follow him.

"See you later, Ritsu."

"Bye, Shige."

They stepped out into the sunlight and onto the school grounds, Reigen all but shaking, barely feeling like he was in his body. Mob felt magnetic at his side, a steadying comfort. He was only a few inches shorter than Arataka now. "What did Ritsu want to talk about, Master Reigen?"

"Eh, nothing much." He stretched his arms above his head, trying to shake off the crushing tension. "He really cares about you, you know."

"Yeah." Shigeo smiled a little, matching Reigen's strides as they left the crowded schoolyard behind them. "I'm really lucky."

Conversation then moved to the client they were meeting up with, someone who suspected that they owned a haunted heirloom but couldn't tell which of their extensive collection it was. Reigen was more than grateful to have all talk of Ritsu behind.


End file.
